


homerun

by someplacewarm



Series: birds of a feather [1]
Category: Batman (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Batfamily (DCU), Bruce Wayne is Mostly a Good Dad, Drinking, Family Feels, Father-Son Relationship, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Gotham City Knights, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, Past Character Death, gross misunderstanding of baseball semantics, it's jason&bruce heavy, rhato doesnt happen in my fic, seriously if you came here for other batfam members you will be disappointed, superhero ice cream placement @ dc sponsor me, there's a lot of fluff, they talk like a LOT in this fic so if you're into silent!bruce this won't be your thing, y'all know im talking about jason right
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-24 22:29:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21107051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/someplacewarm/pseuds/someplacewarm
Summary: Bruce backs out from a baseball game with Jason last minute.They handle it just about as well as they handle anything else: bad, then better.





	homerun

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not a baseball fan so I only know half of what I'm talking about here. 
> 
> I wanted to explore what a mending-relationship conversation with Bruce and Jason would be like without the cliche "kill vs no kill" being the centre of the argument. SO if you find that barely touched upon, it's pretty intentional. 
> 
> Edit: Some of the italics aren't working for some reason so I'm sorry about that! :( 
> 
> Hope you like it! :)

“You remember the last time we were here?”

Here was Crime Alley, among other places in Jason’s long list of memories of being stood up by Batman. The memories swirled around in a muddy green puddle in the back of his mind, like sad little pieces of flotsam, each serrated piece edging him closer to anger. He closed his eyes. Breathed in the smog. It was so easy to just lose it. Just let the angry little green flashes run their course and give _him_ a taste of what he so badly deserved. __

_ _

_ _“Yes.” Batman replied, the voice modulator crackling his voice slightly. “This is where we first met.”_ _

_ _

_ _Jason could only partially see him. Smog billowed thickly, barely revealing the dark shadow of the cowl, which pierced through a dusty golden cloud. He wondered what an onlooker would think if they spotted the Red Hood and Batman together. The nauseating green crawled over the back of his spine, slithering over the crown of his skull, daring him again. Pushing him to sickly emerald rage. _ _

_ _

_ _Jason sighed, using his restless hands to clasp the sides of his helmet instead of the holster of his gun. It clicked off with a slight ‘tssk’. He smiled sourly as Batman stepped out of the shadows. “That was definitely not the last time,” he exhaled, feeling relieved when the cold air swept across his face. The stifling heat of the helmet only made the effects of the Pit worse. “The last time was when I spent nearly three hours crawling in a wetsuit trying to bomb your car.” He jutted his thumb out towards the Batmobile that was resting a good few feet away from where he was standing. _ _

_ _

_ _And succeeded, he thought, with a sick sense of pride. He was working on it. _They_ were supposed to be working on it. _ _

_ _

_ _“Hnn.” Bruce said shortly. “Your tire iron skills were far deadlier than your explosives,”_ _

_ _

_ _Jason chuckled humorlessly. Maybe they both were terrible at this whole patching up the relationship thing. It would explain why Bruce was trying to make a joke than try to reprimand him for saying the absolute worst things. “Big words for someone who could’ve easily taken down a twelve year old idiot,” he said, staring down at his hands. “You _let_ me run away. You could’ve just picked me up and thrown me across the street.” Jason almost wished he had. _ _

_ _

_ _He remembered it all; being twelve and thinking of himself as intrepid for daring to boost those Batmobile tires. The flush of stupidity he felt when Batman stared down at him. Batman was almost fifty feet tall back then. A legend more than a man. A traitor beneath the cowl — _ _

_ _

_ _“I wouldn’t do that to a child,” Batman said, almost scoffing. “To you, moreover.”_ _

_ _

_ _“Well you should have,” Jason snapped, blinking rapidly. It was the rain, he told himself. The tiny little droplets that had just started to fall were just the bellwether for a worse storm. “Would’ve hurt a lot lesser than you bailing out on me last minute.” _ _

_ _

_ _Again, he thought, but didn’t say it. _ _

_ _

_ _“Penny-one mentioned you were upset,” Batman stated. “That’s why I asked you to meet me. I’m sorry —”_ _

_ _

_ _“Why did you even invite me, Bruce?” Jason demanded, feeling something inside of him snap at the accusation of being ‘upset’. Code names, he thought, but flushed the thought away bitterly. No one else was here and Jason didn’t care if they were. “If you weren’t going to show, why buy tickets at all?”_ _

_ _

_ _“I —”_ _

_ _

_ _“No,” Jason interjected. “You know, I’m the stupid one for believing you wanted to make things right with us again.” He pressed on his wrist with a thumb, feeling the low beat of his pulse. One, two, three, he counted, trying to drown the ringing in his ears. It wasn’t working. “I was so naive to think my dad would want to catch the game with me, just like old times, but no. You bailed. You were just too busy for me like you always are.”_ _

_ _

_ _The Gotham Knights weren’t even that phenomenal of a team but that was _their_ thing. Every other kid in that family had access to Bruce. Had time with him. For Jason, it was Batman or nothing. He had accepted that as an unfortunate trade-off for choosing to do what he did. For choosing to kill. But when Bruce told him he wanted to work on mending their relationship again, Jason had yet again become a fucking fool and believed in him. No matter how much he got better, that was one mistake he just kept making. _ _

_ _

_ _“I'm sorry,” Bruce said simply and if Jason didn't know any better, it was almost genuine. “I don't know how to make it up to you.” _ _

_ _

_ _“You know,” Jason scorned. “You and I. I think we're meant to be like this. Always at ends with each other, huh?” He shook his head, walking back to his bike, feeling his boots sink in the mud. “Maybe it's best we leave it at that. Someone's gotta be the black sheep, might as well be me.” _ _

_ _

. 

__  
_It all started with alcohol. _  


_ _

_ _No, Jason corrected himself. It all started with Bruce, as most things did. _ _

_ _

_ _He was down at some random bar on Eastside, minding his own business, when the man had the gall to appear on television in the form of a pretentious Wayne Enterprises commercial. Jason didn’t even know they still did those anymore. Wondered why Bruce even bothered keeping the act up. He certainly didn’t keep up any pretenses when it came to Jason. He slammed another shot down his throat, feeling it burn in quick flashes. _ _

_ _

_ _“You know they shot this commercial a block down from here,” the bartender said amicably enough that Jason knew the lull in Monday night crowds had gotten to him. The bar was mostly empty, save a few men speaking in hushed tones down at the pool table. Some shady business deal underway, he supposed. He didn’t care. He recognized half those men well enough to realize they were under his payroll anyway. _ _

_ _

_ _“Mr. Wayne was so nice,” the bartender continued as Jason gestured for another drink. He rolled his eyes but pushed a glass forward anyway. “Offered to drive me to work himself when he noticed my car had broken down. Of course his assistant stopped him from doing so, but it’s the thought that counts, right?”_ _

_ _

_ _“Right,” Jason replied, clutching his glass tightly, watching his fingertips turn from pink to pale white.  
He turned his eyes to the screen as the bartender left him to go make small talk with other people. Jason wondered why he bothered. Gotham was messed up enough that everyone would want to drink anyway, no matter how shitty the alcohol tasted. _ _

_ _

_ _On the screen was a clip of the Knights’ game, the word ‘postponed’ flashing across the screen due to heavy rains. The game he and Bruce were supposed to be at. Jason swallowed bitterly. It was just his luck that every nook and corner of the city was reminding him of Bruce tonight for some unfathomable reason. Maybe it was their recent fight or maybe Jason was just a sentimental, self-torturing idiot. Either way, it didn’t take long for him to recall the last time he watched a game in the stadium. It had been with Bruce, VIP box and everything. It didn’t take much to impress a Crime Alley kid, but that had been the best day of his life. Sure, the sun had been in his eyes and they had lost by the widest margin in a long time but it had been fun. They had stopped by the little ice cream shack after the game and Jason had done his best newscaster impression of a post-game analysis. It had made Bruce smile. _ _

_ _

_ _Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the bartender take his bike keys away. He scoffed, downing his drink. He’d hotwire it later anyway. He had never been known to make the best of decisions and he aimed to live up to that title. He pulled out his phone idly, tapping through the contacts. _ _

_ _

_ _“Shit,” he muttered, feeling the weight of exhaustion and alcohol pushing him towards a decision he knew he would end up regretting. He dialled the number anyway. _ _

_ _

_ _The phone took a beat to connect, then ended up going straight to voicemail. _ _

_ _

_ _“Hello, you have reached Bruce Wayne.” came the loud, fake cheerful voice of the man himself. Jason had dialled his personal phone, then, not the one for family emergencies. Good. That would have definitely gotten him into trouble. “If you’re hearing this right now, it means I’m either at a business meeting or on a hot date. Leave a message after the beep.” The tone ended with a short beep. _ _

_ _

_ _He hung up, shaking his head at the ridiculous tone. Between Batman and Bruce Wayne, Jason was sure Bruce had lost his real, actual personality in there somewhere. If he even had one. _ _

_ _

_ _“Psychopath,” he muttered, standing up. He threw a few notes of cash down at the table and walked out. The warm Gotham air hit his face, making him feel slightly sick. His head was buzzing with the sound of cars whooshing by. He sat down on the seat of his bike, eyeing a homeless man trying to nick some leftovers out of the trash. He dialled again._ _

_ _

_ _“Hello you have reached Bruce Wayne —” _ _

_ _

_ _“Shut up,” Jason muttered through the automated voice recording. “Shut up.”_ _

_ _

_ _“Leave a message after the beep.”_ _

_ _

_ _“Bruce,” he slurred, wincing at his own voice. He didn’t realize how much he’d had to drink but he didn’t think it would be this bad. “I’m at..fuck, I don’t know. Fuck you.” He hung up again, staring at his phone. _ _

_ _

_ _“The game was on tonight,” he said, noting how dry his voice sounded. “Reminded me of, you know, the one we went to … back in..down at the park. And then the one you bailed on.” _ _

_ _

_ _Hung up. Called again._ _

_ _

_ _“You know,” he drawled. “Sometimes I forget. I don't know if it's a Pit thing or if I'm actually aging a lot faster than I'm supposed to but sometimes...I forget. I forget things like the smell of my mom's perfume or the name of my favorite newscaster.” He realized how quickly his words were gaining speed. “I can't even remember what happened the first..the first month I came back from the dead.” _ _

_ _

_ _“I never forgot you though,” Jason said, eyeing a tiny little puddle by the rear of his tire. It looked like a bat. Or a really wonky tick mark._ _

_ _He paused, feeling the throb of the city in the back of his skull. He felt a chill skitter across from the nape of his neck to the corners of his eyebrows. “I loved you and I hated you and maybe I was justified in some of those things. Maybe you're justified too but it still doesn't take away the sting from the fact that you hate me...”_ _

_ _

_ _He'd told himself for the longest time ever that he didn't need anyone. Even when he arrived at the Manor, he told himself to never get his hopes up. He was a Crime Alley kid after all; as independent as independent could get. Yet, nights like this really made him miss the kid he was. Miss the dad he had. Sure, Bruce wasn't the best with emotions but he was there. Unlike Willis, he was always there. Until he wasn't. “I miss you, Bruce. And I get it, okay? I do. I messed up...but I guess I just hoped—”_ _

_ _

_ _Jason stood up, all too suddenly, and hung up. He didn't care. It wasn't worth his time. No matter how much he missed anything or anyone, he wouldn't trade it for what he believed in. For what he did as Red Hood. _ _

_ _

_ _ No, he'd go home, take a shower and forget this ever happened. _ _

_ _

_ _._ _

_ _

_ _Except, come Monday morning, it all came rushing back to him with a knock on his door. _ _

_ _

_ _Jason had intended to go for a run. Then, sit down and map out his plans for the East End gang. Instead, he woke up with the world's worst hangover and a terrible sense of regret. What for, he couldn't remember exactly, but when he swung open the door, it all came back to him._ _

_ _

_ _At his doorway stood Bruce Wayne, dressed in an impeccable gray suit and a blank look on his face. _ _

_ _

_ _“Right,” Jason muttered and closed his eyes._ _

_ _“I don't hate you, Jason.” Bruce said, evident concern on his face. Great. Jason would've chuckled at how laughable all this was, but if he did, he was sure his skull would split wide open. _ _

_ _

_ _“Okay.” Jason waved his hand as a way of inviting Bruce in and then plopped onto his couch. “You want tea? Coffee? Water? I have it all, pick your poison — just do me a favour and help yourself, because I really can't right now.” He covered his eyes, protecting them from the blinding sunlight. And from Bruce's impending disapproval over his life choices. _ _

_ _

_ _Bruce remained standing, eyeing Jason's apartment. It was so obvious he was being his usual obsessive self, trying to memorize the layout of this safehouse before Jason could move into the next one. His eyes landed on Jason again. _ _

_ _

_ _“Can we just pretend last night never happened?” Jason groaned, covering his eyes with his hand. _ _

_ _

_ _“This isn't like you,” Bruce quipped. “Jason —”_ _

_ _

_ _“Yes, I know,” Jason interjected, irritably. “I got unreasonably drunk, you disapprove. I get it. It won't happen again.” _ _

_ _

_ _“Does it happen often?” _ _

_ _

_ _Jason stared at Bruce. He looked concerned. He narrowed his eyes. “No, of course not.” _ _

_ _

_ _“I want you to know you can tell me the truth,” Bruce said awkwardly. “If you need help..if you're struggling—”_ _

_ _

_ _“Jesus Christ, Bruce,” Jason snapped. “I'm not an alcoholic, if that's what you're suggesting. I hadn't touched alcohol in months, you know I'm a fucking lightweight. I had a moment of weakness and I called. I'm sorry.” _ _

_ _

_ _“There were,” Bruce cleared his throat. “Other concerning things you said on the phone.” _ _

_ _

_ _Jason stuffed his face into his pillow. “I don't want to talk to you right now, go away.” He knew he probably sounded like a whiny child but he really didn't need to relive the previous night again. Especially when Bruce was treating him like a child. _ _

_ _

_ _“Jason, it's okay to accept how you feel.” _ _

_ _

_ _“That is the height of hypocrisy coming from you.” He bit into the pillow. _ _

_ _

_ _“We can talk about those things later,” Bruce said simply. “That's not why I'm here.” _ _

_ _

_ _“It's not?” _ _

_ _“I didn't want to cancel on you, chum,” Bruce explained. “But Lucius called last minute. One of our buildings had collapsed and Walter Simmons, an employee of ours for over 27 years had to be hospitalised as a result. I had to personally go meet the family and give them my condolences. I'm sorry.” _ _

_ _

_ _“It's fine,” Jason replied, feeling his face go red. He pressed his fingers to his face, holding them down on his cheeks. “I overreacted. I'm sorry, too. Is the dude okay?” _ _

_ _

_ _“He’ll live. I brought you something.” _ _

_ _

_ _Bruce stepped forward and pressed two little slips of paper onto the coffee table. _ _

_ _

_ _“What's that?” Jason mumbled, looking up. _ _

_ _

_ _“Two tickets to the rematch against Metropolis this Friday,” Bruce said hesitantly. “If you would like to go, I can clear my schedule.”_ _

_ _

_ _Jason swallowed dryly. His breath was so putrid it made him cringe. He must have pulled a face because Bruce looked disappointed. _ _

_ _

_ _“You don't have to tell me right away,” Bruce said._ _

_ _

_ _“Mind if I take a shower first? I smell like the Gotham Harbour.”_ _

_ _

_ _“Hnn.” _ _

_ _

_ _When he came out of the shower, Bruce was still in his living room, only this time sitting down to read the newspaper. There were two steaming cups of coffee on the table beside him. _ _

_ _

_ _“I thought you'd left,” Jason said, taking the seat opposite him. He picked up one of the mugs. “Don't you have a company to run?” _ _

_ _

_ _“The company can run just fine without me for a while,” Bruce replied. “You should drink that while it's still hot.” _ _

_ _

_ _“Right, thanks,” Jason said, taking a sip. The warmth of the coffee hit him immediately, giving him instant relief. It was sweet. Two spoonfuls of sugar, with milk. Just the way he liked it. “So I've been thinking.”_ _

_ _

_ _“Hnn.” _ _

_ _

_ _“You know a baseball game isn't going to fix everything that's happened between us, right?” He hated being a pessimist, he really did but he didn’t want to get his hopes up. He was convincing himself more than Bruce, he supposed. _ _

_ _“Yes,” Bruce replied. “But it's a start.”_ _

_ _

_ _“A start to what?” Jason folded his legs onto his couch._ _

_ _“A better...relationship. One with mutual understanding.” _ _

_ _

_ _Jason wondered how much of that Dick helped concoct. It didn't change the warm feeling in his chest either way._ _

_ _

_ _“So you mean it?” Jason asked. _ _

_ _

_ _“Yes, if you're comfortable.” _ _

_ _

_ _“Then I guess you better not bail this time, old man.” _ _

_ _

_ _

_ _The weather this time around was different. Dark grey clouds floated over the Gotham City sky, with the occasional rumble of thunder. Bruce had booked seats discreetly enough that they would go unnoticed, yet he wondered if it would have been better if they had been disguised. It was difficult to be both Bruce Wayne and invisible in this city. Jason, however, had opted to put on thick-rimmed glasses under a Gotham Knights cap that concealed his face pretty well. With his hoodie pulled over, he looked like just about any other college student attending the game. _ _

_ _

_ _“Hundred bucks says the Meteors win, 6-4” Jason said, quietly, eyeing the players go down in a line. There’s a quirk to his lips, like he’s excited and it reminded Bruce of when he was a kid. Reminded him of how much they’ve lost over the years._ _

_ _

_ _“No betting,” Bruce warned. _ _

_ _

_ _“Boring answer,” Jason struck back. _ _

_ _

_ _Bruce sighed. “I don’t know, Jay. I’d have more faith in this city if I were you.”_ _

_ _Jason snorted and stood up. “Even out of costume, he still finds a way to turn this into a life-lesson.” he said lightly. “Want a corndog? I’m starving.”_ _

_ _

_ _“No, thank you.” _ _

_ _

_ _“Rich people,” Jason chided, shaking his head. He disappeared behind a family of four, before returning a few minutes later, holding a greasy looking corndog in his hand. “Gotta love the Gotham cuisine. Alfred would have a panic attack.” _ _

_ _

_ _“I suspect anyone would. That doesn't look too healthy.” _ _

_ _

_ _Jason shrugged. “Here for a good time, not a long time.” They turned back to the game. Jason took a bite out of his corndog. “It's funny.” he said, through chews. “That's what always frustrated me about you. Your naivety. This city, it's people, me...you just never stop believing that people are worth more than their actions, do you?” _ _

_ _

_ _“I believe in people,” Bruce replied. The players were scuttling around, taking formation. “Whatever that makes me, it makes me.” _ _

_ _

_ _“Last time I believed in someone I got beaten to death with a crowbar.” Jason said dryly. Bruce winced at the sharp pain in his gut. He was just about to speak when Jason put up his finger._ _

_ _

_ _“I'm sorry.”_ _

_ _

_ _“I'm not talking about you,” Jason said softly. “I'm talking about her.”_ _

_ _

_ _“Sheila?”_ _

_ _Jason nodded, turning to Bruce with a strange look in his eyes. “You buried me beside her. And that's fine, but I'm just curious: did you know how I died?” _ _

_ _“Jason..” _ _

_ _“She betrayed me, Bruce,” Jason said. “Ratted me out to the Joker. He was holding leverage over her head for some stupid medical fraud she committed when she was really young so she turned me over in hopes that that would save her. She led me into the warehouse and told me he was long gone but he wasn't. Obviously."_ _

_ _

_ _“You never told me about this.” Bruce’s heart was beating unsteadily. He didn’t want to think back to that time. But it did make sense. “I-I didn’t know.”_ _

_ _

_ _Jason shrugged. “Doesn't matter,” he said. “It's not her fault. She did what she thought she had to do.” _ _

_ _

_ _“She told me she didn't deserve you,” Bruce said. “I'm starting to think she was right.”_ _

_ _

_ _Jason snorted, taking a bite out of his corndog. “If love was about deserving then we’d all be unworthy, Bruce.” _ _

_ _

_ _“That is an interesting point of view.” _ _

_ _

_ _They watched quietly, seven inches of space between them. Jason whistled sharply every time something drastically changed the pace of the game. His shoulders were hunched in anticipation. In hope._ _

_ _

_ _“You and I are not so different.” Bruce observed. He was surprised at his own comment; when Jason was younger, Bruce saw much of his own rage and pain in the child but he did always think they had become invariably different as adults. It made more sense to realize they were both just opposing poles on the same spectrum. It was a bittersweet feeling. _ _

_ _

_ _Jason chuckled, a low exhale that raised and lowered his shoulders slightly. “How so?”_ _

_ _

_ _“You believe in this city too,” Bruce replied, gently clasping Jason’s shoulder. “It’s why you stay.” He rubbed the back of Jason’s head gingerly. _ _

_ _“That’s half of it.” His muscles stiffened, like he was trying to restrain himself from leaning into Bruce’s hand. _ _

_ _

_ _Bruce didn’t ask him what he meant by that. Simply trained his eyes to leave his son and watch the game instead. It was difficult — the game hardly mattered as much when compared to being here with Jason. If Bruce was being honest with himself, it became much easier to stay apart and stay angry when Jason was the Red Hood. But here, without all the masks, it was evident how terribly he wanted this again._ _

_ _

_ _“I miss talking to ya, Bruce,” Jason said quietly, staring down at his own hands. “Don’t know how you do it, but you really do leave quite an impression on every life you’ve touched.” _ _

_ _

_ _“It hasn’t been the best few years..” Bruce replied, feeling his own throat constrict. Jason was too forgiving. Too kind for his own good. That much hadn’t changed._ _

_ _

_ _“You really have no idea do you?” Jason asked, turning to Bruce. “When I dug myself out of my grave and landed up in the hospital, you were the first name I called. I was in a vegetative state. I didn’t even remember my own name but heck, I remembered yours.” _ _

_ _

_ _Bruce didn’t know what to say. He wanted this to stop but at the same time he knew it would be good for Jason to air this out. He ignored the pain he felt in his chest. _ _

_ _

_ _“I missed you too, Jason,” Bruce replied. “I always will.” _ _

_ _

_ _“You don't have to.” Jason suggested, sniffing lightly. “I'm right here.”_ _

_ _

_ _The ball soared past first base, a little white spectre against the dark sky. Jason's eyes followed, widening as one of the players deftly stooped to catch it. Jason grinned, the corner of his mouth lifted slightly in excitement. “Did you see that, B?!” _ _

_ _

_ _“Yes.” _ _

_ _

_ _“But did you _see_ it?” Jason asked, slapping his hand against his seat. “That was amazing! We just might win this one.” _ _

_ _“You know what that means,” Bruce reminded him. _ _

_ _Jason turned to him, eyebrow raised in confusion. _ _

_ _“I might win the bet.” _ _

_ _

_ _Jason scoffed, turning away to hide a little smile threatening to spill. “We never agreed on it.” _ _

_ _._ _

_ _

_ _By midday, it was still dark and cloudy but there was also searing sunshine. There might be a rainbow, Bruce thought, as they hit the sidewalk together. Several people were coming out from the stadium, talking excitedly about the game. _ _

_ _

_ _Beside him, Jason was quiet. By usual Jason standards, this wasn't odd. Jason never talked much off late. But he had never been this quiet after a baseball game. Bruce wanted to ask what was wrong but he didn't want to disturb the peace they had established over the day. He was tired of being misunderstood and having to explain himself. _ _

_ _

_ _“Some game, huh?” Jason piped up. His voice was odd, like he was forcing himself to be cheerful. “The Knights have really done it this time.”_ _

_ _

_ _“Yes.” Bruce paused. “Something wrong?” he asked, as they both stopped at Bruce's car. _ _

_ _

_ _“I, uh,” Jason mumbled, running a hand over the back of his head. “I guess I didn’t think the day would end this fast.” _ _

_ _

_ _“It’s still noon.” Bruce pointed out. The game had started early but the weather did make it look like it was later in the day. _ _

_ _“Not what I meant,” Jason said quietly, scuffing the toe of his boot to the tire of the car. _ _

_ _

_ _Oh._ _

_ _

_ _Bruce cleared his throat. He had to think quickly, before Jason would change his mind. He caught an ice cream van out of the corner of his eye, tucked away at the side of the street a few feet ahead of them. “We could get ice cream.” It was not a well thought out suggestion but kids loved ice cream and Bruce hoped it would work on the boy who was too hesitant to ask for more time together. _ _

_ _

_ _“It’s alright if you’ve got to head back to work or something,” Jason said quickly, not looking at Bruce. His head was turned and his hands were shoved into the pockets of his hoodie but his ears and cheeks were flushed pink in embarrassment. “You can just drop me off at City Square and I can take the bus back —”_ _

_ _

_ _“Jason,” Bruce interjected gently. “I took the day off.” _ _

_ _

_ _“Oh,” replied Jason, still not looking at Bruce. Then he turned and grinned. “I guess I do owe you ice cream for losing the bet.” _ _

_ _

_ _Bruce shook his head and they walked up a few yards to the van. It was bright pink and electric blue, sticking out like a sore thumb on the dark pavement. Jason skipped forward despite himself, making a beeline for the menu. It was thankfully not too crowded — only a little girl and her mother who both smiled at Jason when he stepped aside so they could see better — but Bruce did notice the ice cream vendor’s eyes widen in recognition. _ _

_ _

_ _“I’m at a fix between,” Jason said to Bruce, his voice low. “Golden Lasso Twirl and Krypton Cookie Dough.” When he looked up at the menu, his glasses became tinted in pink. It was a good angle for a photograph, like the ones Stephanie took when she thought no one was looking. _ _

_ _

_ _“You don’t like caramel,” Bruce reminded him, scanning the menu. Jason’s eyes lit up in surprise like he couldn’t believe Bruce remembered. _ _

_ _

_ _“Maybe I like caramel now,” Jason said defiantly. “Maybe the Pit changed my taste. I used to love waffles before but I don’t anymore so for all you know, caramel could be my favorite flavour.” _ _

_ _

_ _Bruce sighed. Some things never changed. “I’ll have a Dark Knight Brownie Bite.” _ _

_ _

_ _Jason chuckled. “Krypton Cookie Dough, it is.” He began pulling out his wallet but Bruce stopped him, pulling out his own. _ _

_ _

_ _“I can pay for my own shit.” Jason stated flatly._ _

_ _

_ _“It’s my treat.” Bruce said, smiling at the vendor. Jason rolled his eyes and walked to the other side so he could wait for Bruce there. It was a good move, considering the vendor’s looks of curiosity were starting to become a little troublesome. _ _

_ _

_ _When Bruce brought the ice cream back for Jason, he almost wished he had his camera out. There were so many moments today — so many kinds of smiles Jason had put up on display — that were so rare to see. Jason hated pictures and it was a shame because Bruce had recent photos of all the children in his room but an old one of Jason. _ _

_ _

_ _“You stare at me any longer, you’re gonna spill on your 5,000 dollar shirt,” Jason said. “Give me the ice cream, old man.” _ _

_ _

_ _They sat down on the park bench and ate quietly. Bruce’s phone buzzed. _ _

_ _

_How was the game?_ Dick. _You guys still out?_

_ _

_Yes. Bruce typed. _

_ _

_Cool. Just checking in. Tell J I said hi. _

_ _

_ _“Dick says hi,” Bruce said, putting his phone back in his pocket. _ _

_ _

_ _“Checking in to make sure we haven’t killed each other yet?” Jason asked, looking at the mother and daughter duo. “Or rather, if I haven’t killed you yet.” _ _

_ _

_ _“He misses you.” Bruce said, through bites of his cone. Alfred would have scolded him for talking while eating if he was here. _ _

_ _

_ _Jason snorted disbelievingly but didn’t say anything else. _ _

_ _

_ _By the time they were done, big drops had begun to fall from the sky. The city began dispersing, head inwards and seeking shelter. From the looks of it, it would only get heavier by the minute. _ _

_ _

_ _“Head into the gift shop,” Bruce instructed Jason as they both stood up. They quickly ran across the street and inside a little shop, filled with Gotham City souvenirs._ _

_ _

_ _-_ _

_ _“Guess we’re stuck here for a while,” Jason said, looking out the store. It was pouring outside, the sound of water hitting the pavement so loud it made his ears hurt. Rain always made him icky. He turned away from the windows and walked around, trying to focus on the ridiculous little snowglobes instead.  
The slow snowfall in the little orbs made it worse. It reminded him of Russia and the little children he saved, just before he killed the guy who had kidnapped them. The Pit sloshed around somewhere in his body uneasily. It made him sick. His gut coiled and his ribs hurt. _ _

_ _

_ _“Jay?”_ _

_ _

_ _Jason closed his eyes. Breathed in. You’ve always been a force to be reckoned with, Talia would say. Fight it, Boy Wonder. _ _

_ _

_ _“Talia was wrong,” he gasped. “She was _so_ wrong. I can’t fight it and it hurts.” _ _

_ _

_ _“Jay, what are you talking about?” Bruce asked, his hand hovering slightly like he was too afraid to touch Jason. Good. If he had, Jason was not sure he would have been able to hold back and they were having such a good day. _ _

_ _

_ _“Give me a moment, please, Bruce?” he asked, trailing to the washroom. Bruce didn't follow. He took ‘leave-me-alone's seriously. _ _

_ _

_ _In the washroom, he stared at himself in the mirror. For a minute he thought he looked like Clark Kent, with the whole glasses act going on. He'd laugh if he wasn't so goddamn shaky. His eyes were a lot greener than usual. Like a cat. A really sick cat. He pressed his hands against the sink. Breathed in. Reminded himself he was alright. “Fuck.” _ _

_ _

_ _Jason came out, scanning the room for Bruce. He was simply sitting and staring out into the rain. A bunch of cashiers were whispering about him. That made Jason a little mad. He felt spikes of something rush up his veins again. Funny, he hadn't been mad on Bruce's behalf in a while. _ _

_ _

_ _“You alright?” Bruce asked. “What's going on?” _ _

_ _

_ _“It's the Pit,” Jason croaked, feeling his throat dry. He clutched the sides of his own arms tightly. “Always feel weird when it rains.” _ _

_ _

_ _Bruce nodded, a strange look crossing his eyes. “I'll be right back.” He got up and walked over to the cashiers, motioning to them about something. Seconds later, shutters came down, blocking out the long glass windows. The store lights flickered on and Jason could feel the Pit remnants slowly backing away, going dormant again. Settling under his bones until the next episode. _ _

_ _

_ _“Better?” Bruce asked, standing over him. _ _

_ _“Yep. Thanks.” Jason whispered, biting his lip. He felt like a brat for being so demanding. He could picture it right now, those poor underpaid workers cursing him in their head for making him shut down all those windows. A big baby who couldn't handle himself. A rabid dog. _ _

_ _

_ _“Look at me, Jason,” Bruce instructed firmly, sitting down beside Jason. “Look at me.” _ _

_ _

_ _He hadn’t even realized that his breathing had become faster and shakier. He took a breath. “What did you tell them?” he asked, not yet looking at Bruce. _ _

_ _

_ _“That my son was having a photo-sensititve panic attack and I needed them to close the blinds.” _ _

_ _

_ _My _son_. Jason chuckled humorlessly. “Not too far from the truth.” _ _

_ _

_ _“Hnn.” _ _

_ _

_ _“M'sorry.” Jason mumbled, looking at Bruce. He seemed to be scanning for damage. His eyes were so stormy. So plain compared to the bubbling chaos in his own blood. “It just happened.” _ _

_ _

_ _“It's not your fault,” Bruce said sternly. Jason covered his face with his hands. _ _

_ _

_ _They sat for a minute while Jason composed himself. _ _

_ _

_ _“Status?” _ _

_ _“Stable now,” Jason said, surprised that he genuinely meant it. “All good.” _ _

_ _

_ _“What did you mean when you said Talia was wrong?” Bruce asked, his voice sounding strange. _ _

_ _

_ _“It's just this thing she used to say,” Jason shrugged. “Her version of a joke, I guess.” He looked down at his jeans. A thread was coming out of the seam. “She'd say I was so stubborn I could bully even the Pit into obeying my commands.” _ _

_ _

_ _He stood up. “I thought it was her way of teasing me, y'know,” he continued, “But I guess it was just her telling me to fight it. That I had the strength to not let it run its course.” _ _

_ _

_ _“Hnn.” Bruce grumbled. _ _

_ _

_ _Jason glanced at him. He didn't look mad, just grumpy. “What?” _ _

_ _

_ _“I didn't know you talked that much to Talia.” _ _

_ _

_ _His tone was accusatory. Jason scowled._ _

_ _

_ _“I don't,” Jason snapped. “She stops by sometimes to see Damian — I'm sure you knew that — and she checks up on me too. Not as often as with him, though. You know, ‘cause he's her kid and all that.” _ _

_ _

_ _Bruce was quiet, staring down at his hands. “I see.” _ _

_ _“What?” _ _

_ _

_ _“She clearly knows about your Pit...attacks — if we can call it that,” Bruce grumbled. _ _

_ _

_ _“Yeah? So?” Jason demanded. “She tries to help. Makes me tea whenever she stops by.” Bruce was acting strange. Not angry but disappointed? No...weirder. Jason couldn't read him well these days but if he wasn't wrong—_ _

_ _

“Are you actually _jealous?_” 

_ _Bruce glared up at him. _ _

_ _

_ _“Oh my god, you are,” Jason exclaimed. “You're making that stupid face you used to make whenever Slam Bradley was around Selina.” _ _

_ _

_ _“I'm not jealous,” Bruce lied, standing up. “I am simply concerned.” _ _

_ _

_ _“About what?” _ _

_ _

_ _“About your closeness with Talia,” Bruce explained. “I'm not sure I would trust that easily.”_ _

_ _

_ _“But _you_ did,” Jason pointed out. “I mean, you would’ve had to. How else would Damian have been born?” _ _

_ _

_ _Bruce's ears turned bright pink but his mouth was set in a line. “I didn't raise you to talk like that.” _ _

_ _

_ _“You didn't raise me,” Jason argued. “Alfred did.” _ _

_ _

_ _Bruce remained quiet, pretending to examine a plaque that read ‘I love Gotham.’ His arms were crossed behind his back. _ _

_ _

_ __Two can play this game,_ Jason thought._ _

_ _

_ _“Well you can't be jealous,” Jason said. “You hang out with your other kids more than you do with me. Why can't I hang out with Talia?” _ _

_ _

_ _“It's not the same,” Bruce said, “because I'm your parent. She's not.” He stopped in his tracks. “And we are ‘hanging out’ right now.” _ _

_ _

_ _“Whatever you say, boss,” Jason grinned. “I just think you need to cut her some slack. She's not all that bad.” _ _

_ _

_ _“I know,” Bruce replied, staring at Jason dead in the eyes. It was weird how that still scared him. “But you're _my_ son.” _ _

_ _

_ _It was strange how his heart skipped a beat at that. Jason shook his head, berating himself for being an idiot. He didn’t know whether to be angry or happy that Bruce cared. He considered arguing but then remembered how this would go well only if both of them cooperated. And he really wanted it to go well. “So what would you have me do differently, then?” _ _

_ _

_ _“You can start by telling me what you tell her,” Bruce said. “about your Pit symptoms.” _ _

_ _

_ _Jason inhaled lightly. Part of him regretted coming on this trip because being closer to Bruce meant actually opening up to him like before. He couldn't just pretend he was fine. Couldn't keep it a secret either. That vulnerability was something he didn't like but he craved the good parts of their relationship so much. Ever since he was twelve, all he'd do was play the good moments over and over in his head despite himself. He wasn't twelve anymore. He knew for all the good, they had to talk about the bad too. _ _

_ _

_ _“I'll tell you,” Jason said, “On one condition.” _ _

_ _

_ _“What?” _ _

_ _

_ _He pointed at the Green Lantern shirt hanging up against the wall. “You buy that shirt for me.” _ _

_ _._ _

_ _

_ _ “Do you have to wear it in the car?” _ _

_ _Bruce wasn't looking at Jason but he could still see the green t-shirt’s reflection against the side mirrors of the car. The rain had subsided and after much arguing, he had obliged to buy Jason the Green Lantern shirt. He knew Jason was just doing it to deflect the actual question and crawl under Bruce's skin, but he heavily underestimated Bruce's dedication to getting answers. If he needed the damn shirt to talk about this, he would buy the damn shirt. _ _

_ _

_ _“What, you're jealous of Hal Jordan now, too?” Jason mused, flicking his hair around and checking himself out in the mirror. He had traded the shirt for his hoodie and undershirt, which were now lying in the backseat. _ _

_ _

_ _Bruce wasn't _jealous_ of Talia per se. He was only alarmed at how wide the gap between him and Jason had become for Jason to discuss his problems with other people and not him. They were a lot closer before. Back when he used to have Jason's trust, even just a smidge of it. _ _

_ _

_ _“Don't mention him in my car,” Bruce growled. “Now answer my question.” _ _

_ _

_ _“Right,” Jason replied nervously. “The Pit makes me nauseous. Brings back terrible memories but I think it also erases some memories. It's like a panic attack but worse. More silent and paralysing.” _ _

_ _

_ _“Any specific triggers?” Bruce asked, keeping one eye on the traffic light they were stopped at and the other on Jason. _ _

_ _

_ _“The rain, but only sometimes,” Jason said, tapping the side of his car seat. “Smoke. Heat. The Robin suit.” _ _

_ _

_ _Bruce nodded, feeling his Adam's apple go up and down at the last one. _ _

_ _

_ _“Nightmares,” Jason said quietly. “And sometimes...Batman.” _ _

_ _

_ _Jason glanced at him to see how he'd respond. Bruce was careful enough to keep his face blank. _ _

_ _“I'll need a blood sample.” Bruce said sharply, keeping his eyes on the road. _ _

_ _“For what?” _ _

_ _“To see if we can develop an antidote,” Bruce replied. _ _

_ _

“Bruce, there is no antidote,” Jason answered, sighing in frustration. He knew Bruce would try to ‘fix’ this. “Don’t you get it? Lazarus _is_ the antidote. To aging and death. Unfortunately for me, it’s an antidote with bad side effects.” 

_ _ _ _

“Hnn.” His voice had a dubious tone to it that Jason _really_ didn’t like. 

_ _ _ _

_ _ _“You don’t believe me, do you?” Jason asked, turning in his seat to face Bruce. “Talia and I have tried to find something that will help. You don’t think she knows about something she’s grown up around?”_ _ _

_ _ _ _

_ _ _“I want to conduct my own research —”_ _ _

_ _ _ _

_ _ _“— And you have,” Jason finished. “Bruce, please,” his voice broke in a surprisingly vulnerable manner. “We were having such a good day. You can’t seriously be mad at me for something I can’t control. It’s Batman, not Bruce Wayne that does it to me.” _ _ _

_ _ _ _

_ _ _Bruce gripped the steering wheel tight but didn’t say anything. _ _ _

_ _ _ _

_ _ _“When are you going to stop blaming yourself for what you’ve lost and start appreciating what you have right now?” Jason demanded, sounding more defeated than angry. “Every time I talk about the Pit, you treat it as a disease. As an excuse to explain my behavior —”_ _ _

_ _ _“—Jason—”_ _ _

_ _ _ _

_ _ _“— It’s not, Bruce,” Jason shouted. “I’ve always been like this. The old me’s not coming back no matter how hard you wish for it. I grew up. The only reason I didn’t kill as Robin was because I wanted to give your way a chance. The Pit has never influenced me to kill. That was me. My call.” _ _ _

_ _ _ _

_ _ _Bruce pulled the car over. He pressed a hand to his forehead for a second, composing himself. “Jason,” he said, voice threatening to rise. “I want to help you. I don’t know how.” _ _ _

_ _ _ _

_ _ _Jason paused, like he too was thinking of how they could possibly fix this. “Just,” Jason started. “Just listen to me, please. When I tell you about what I’m going through, don’t try to fix it. Just be there for me.” _ _ _

_ _ _ _

_ _ _Bruce started to speak but Jason shushed him. _ _ _

_ _ _ _

_ _ _“I need you, Dad,” Jason muttered, his voice faltering in the worst way possible. “Not as Batman trying to fix my moral compass or save my life. As you. I just...I want to be able to talk to you. Not all the time — you know I can take care of myself — I just need you sometimes.” His voice faltered, like he was unsure of what to do or say next. _ _ _

_ _ _ _

_Talking to you helps, _ Dick would say. _ Boy does it frustrate me sometimes, but it mostly helps. _

_ _ _ _

_ _ _“Okay,” Bruce agreed. “We can work on that.”_ _ _

_ _ _ _

_ _ _“Anything you want from me?” Jason asked, wiping away at his face. When Bruce looked surprised, Jason just shrugged. “Goes both ways. I’m trying to turn a new leaf. Be a better son.” He whispered the last word, like he felt he was undeserving of the title. _ _ _

_ _ _ _

Bruce inhaled. _Tell him the truth,_ he thought. He’s open to it. 

_ _ _ _

_ _ _“Alfred says it’s not emotionally healthy to lean on my children all the time,” Bruce huffed. Jason laughed at that. Not a full laugh, but it did manage to pull that miserable sadness off his face. “But it would be nice to see you time and again. Whatever suits your fancy.” _ _ _

_ _ _ _

_ _ _Jason nodded. _ _ _

_ _ _ _

_ _ _“And,” Bruce started. This was the more difficult one. “I would like you to try and get to know your siblings more.” Jason’s face was carefully blank. Bruce continued. “I will speak to them, too. But it would make me...pleased if you did.”_ _ _

_ _ _ _

_ _ _Jason bit his lip, then rolled his eyes and nodded. “As long as I don’t have to go on those road trips Dick takes them on.” _ _ _

_ _ _ _

_ _ _“And Jason?”_ _ _

_ _ _ _

_ _ _Jason looked at him. His eyes were so young, blue speckled with aqua green. They were almost hopeful. “You were always the best son I could ever ask for.” _ _ _

_ _ _ _

_Me and your parents both,_ he thought. He reached out, pulling Jason into his shoulder. Jason went ‘oomf’ as his nose rammed into Bruce’s shoulder. Then, his arms came around Bruce, too. The angles were weird and uncomfortable — mainly due to them still being strapped in with their seatbelts — but it was a hug nonetheless. 

_ _ _ _

_ _ _“Shit,” Jason muttered into Bruce’s shoulder. Bruce felt his chest shake and hoped to whatever God that was out there that he wasn’t crying again. He didn’t think he could handle any more tears for at least another week. _ _ _

_ _ _ _

_ _ _“What?”_ _ _

_ _ _ _

_ _ _“I think I spilled some ice cream on the back of your shirt.” _ _ _

_ _ _ _

_ _ _Bruce realized he wasn’t crying but _laughing_. He pulled away to see Jason’s face split into a wide grin. “Alfred’s going to kill me, isn’t he?”_ _ _

_ _ _ _

It _was_ Armani and Alfred would definitely be disappointed but not for too long. Alfred spoiled the children too much and couldn’t stay mad at them, in Bruce’s opinion. He shook his head and pulled out his phone, snapping a quick picture while he could. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.” 

_ _ _ _

_ _ _He looked down at his phone. The picture was slightly blurry and Jason’s smile wasn’t even that wide — not to mention he was wearing the damned Green Lantern shirt — but it was new. _ _ _

_ _ _ _

_ _ _It gave Bruce hope._ _ _

**Author's Note:**

> Bruce just pretends that the GL shirt represents John and not Hal. Somewhere in the universe Hal Jordan is cackling in success. Thanks for reading! :)


End file.
